


Inside Out

by Graceful_Storyteller



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh, Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Feels, Gen, Minor Character Death, Post-Canon, The Egyptian Gods are dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27417193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graceful_Storyteller/pseuds/Graceful_Storyteller
Summary: “The first one is always the hardest. It isn't until you stop seeing them as human that murder becomes easy.”“I'm not you,” Ryou hisses, the spark of anger in his breast a welcome distraction against the acidic sting of self-disgust in his belly.“No, you're not.”A year after Atem enters the Afterlife the Millennium Tome is discovered. Only those with a connection to the Millennium Items have the power to stop the Dark God from being reborn.A one-shot following the lives of Ryou and Thief King Bakura told through five basic emotions: Anger, Fear, Disgust, Sadness, and Happiness.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou & Thief King Bakura
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Inside Out

**Anger**

Ryou stands at the door to the church in his best suit, a bland smile plastered onto his face as he shakes hands with a seemingly never-ending stream of strangers and thanks them all for their attendance. They respond with looks of pity, with claims of how dear his father was to them and how much he will be missed. They tell him to be strong – his father would want him to be strong. Ryou holds back the retort that they would know; they have interacted with Professor Bakura over the last few years far more than his only son has. Instead he politely agrees that the whole matter is truly _tragic_ and invites them to enter.

Eventually all the mourners are seated and Ryou is able to take his place in the front pew beside Miss Hinabi. Professor Bakura's assistant smiles weakly at him, the make-up around her eyes already smudged beyond repair. Ryou offers her the same smile he has offered the rest before turning towards the alter. She is the one who found his father dead in his office of a brain aneurysm early one morning. At least, that is the official story. The gossip among the assembled archaeologists is that she turned over to kiss her lover good morning and found only a cooling corpse. Having spoken at length with the coroner, Ryou knows that this is nothing more than a vicious rumour. One which is likely based in fact, but a rumour nonetheless.

A part of Ryou resents her for this; a much larger part knows that it is none of his business who his father slept with. His mother has been dead for years and such fealty to the deceased can only be expected to remain for so long. Professor Bakura was his own man with his own needs and desires – who is Ryou to censure him? Especially when they have been living separate lives for years. Really, it was only fitting that Ryou had had nothing to do with the funeral arrangements. Miss Hinabi had taken it upon herself to ensure that Professor Bakura would be delivered as efficiently and respectfully as possible to his final resting place. She knew his wishes far better – she knew everything from his favourite flower to his most valued friends. Ryou would only have made a mess of the arrangements and shown his ignorance of this great man if someone had taken the time to consult him. All that had been asked of him was to show up on time, look presentable, and play the part of the dutiful son. Luckily for the archaeological community Ryou's time playing TRPGs has made him a good actor.

The priest begins the service and one by one Professor Bakura's colleagues stand before the congregation and extol his virtues. One of them even remembers that he had a wife and daughter – she speaks passionately about the courage it took for him to overcome such a tragedy and continue on with his invaluable research. Another mentions his perseverance over his troubles at home; Ryou would have called it running from the problem of people falling into mysterious comas around his son, but why split hairs? Eventually he is called on to say a few words. He reads the poem he read at the last family funeral he attended. Then he returns to his seat, pretending to be too overcome with emotion to heap further praise on the deceased.

After the service his father's body leaves for the crematorium and the guests relocate to the museum, where Miss Hinabi has arranged a generous spread. Ryou allows himself to be seen whilst avoiding the guests the best he can. It is not so difficult a task to accomplish – once everyone is sure that they have been seen comforting the grieving son they have no need to talk to him. Miss Hinabi is the exception to that rule – she repeatedly tries to corner him and Ryou is forced to flee outside to avoid her. There he finds the smokers speaking feely: they laugh at Professor Bakura's choice in women, sneer at the pathetic specimen that is his son, and bicker like vultures over who will take his place as curator of Domino Museum and as lead archaeologist on his next scheduled dig in Egypt.

From his hiding place among the foliage Ryou silently curses every last one of them. His father's corpse has only just been laid to rest and already they mock him? All the things they said in the church were nothing more than empty platitudes. They never cared for his father, never valued his work or his dedication to their field. Their words were nothing but lies upon lies.

Stalking away from the Museum, his rage an uncomfortable weight in his belly, Ryou remembers another whose pretty words were nothing but lies.

“ _I've **changed;** I'm a good person now.” _

“ _I just want to be your **friend**. Don't you want to be mine?”_

“ _Don't you want to help Yugi regain his memories? Just build the diorama and I'll show you his memories **and mine.** Don't you want to help your friends?”_

Ryou should have known it was a trick. He should have known the Voice hadn't changed – it had manipulated him until the very end. And he'd let it because in his loneliness he'd wanted a friend who could never leave. He'd wanted what Yugi had with his other self. He'd wanted to be happy for once in his _fucking_ life _._

He should have known that was too much to ask.

  
  


**Anger**

Bakura does not know how long he has languished in the mists of Purgatory before the gods of his father make an unwanted appearance. They come in the guises of humble humans, but Bakura knows a deity when he sees one. He spits at their feet, his lips curled into a snarl. He warns them not to take a step closer if they value their lives.

“ **I told you he would be uncooperative.”**

The scent of death – entrails and linen and the dust of a tomb – fills the air as the god's form flickers.

“ **Only because he does not know of the proposition we bring him.”**

“You can keep your proposition,” Bakura growls. “I'm through making deals with gods.”

“ **So he can be taught after all,”** comes an almost feline purr.

Before Bakura can respond another god interrupts. **“You should not blame us for your own foolishness. You were the one who trusted the wrong god to bring about your justice. You should also listen to what we have to say before history repeats itself and another child loses everything to the Darkness.”**

The residents of Purgatory no longer have internal organs, but that does not stop Bakura's stomach from churning at those words. “What?”

“ **The mortals have found the Millennium Tome and translated its forbidden spells. Soon they will repeat the ritual which brought the Millennium Items into this world, and the war against the Dark One will recommence.”**

A woman with a familiar face steps forward, and Bakura recoils from the intensity of her gaze. **“You have always fought for justice. I cannot say that I approve of your methods, but your white spirit guardian proves that before you allowed your heart to be corrupted your intentions were pure. I would like to believe that you would not stand idly by whilst an injustice of this magnitude was committed.”**

Bakura glares at the woman whilst the anger and hatred inside him fights his growing guilty conscious. His pride had blinded him to the fact that he was no more than a puppet; his arrogance had caused him to fight his enemies head-on instead of striking from the shadows. He does not regret his actions but he does regret the consequences. He died before his family received the justice they deserved. If only he'd fought harder, fought smarter... And then there's that boy; a faceless wretch surrounded by death and angry spirits and so full of pain that it's a wonder he has not been driven mad.

“Sorry to disappoint you but I'm not the altruistic type. Besides, your precious Pharaoh killed me; how do you expect me to affect the living world from here?”

“ **We would have resurrected you. We would have given you a new body and a chance to earn a place in Paradise.”**

“ **We would have held the fate of the villagers of Kul Elna over your head to ensure you remembered your mission.”**

Rage flares in Bakura's heart and he lunges for the god who _dared_ to threaten his family. The god's image flickers and suddenly Bakura is falling. He uses his arms to brace against the impact with the ground, then turns on his side to see what tripped him. Shackles made from the mists of Purgatory restrain his ankles, fastening him to the ground. No matter how much he struggles he is unable to break them.

“ **We will not make this offer twice Thief King Bakura. If you return to Life and stop those who would resurrect the Dark God then you and your village will be admitted into Paradise.”**

Bakura continues to struggle for another few seconds before finally admitting defeat. “Let me guess: if I refuse your _generous_ offer of divine servitude you'll damn both me and my village?”

The gods' smiles are anything but comforting. **“You would be disappointed with us if we didn't.”**

  
  


**Fear**

Ryou has never been good at distinguishing dreams from reality. Whether that says more about his dreams or his life is hard to tell – either way, he is not the least bit surprised to be at his desk fighting a losing battle against fatigue one minute, and staring down the three Egyptian God Cards the next. The sight reminds him of the Ceremonial Duel in the depths of Atem's tomb, and suddenly his formless surroundings are shifting to accommodate the memory. Ryou is standing where Yugi did as he faced his greatest challenge. The potential symbolism does not go unacknowledged; a shiver runs down Ryou's spine as fear and dread cause his heart to race.

“ **Bakura Ryou, hear us!”** booms Obelisk.

“I'm, err...I'm listening.”

“ **An old evil threatens this world. You must gather the former wielders of the Millennium Items in order to vanquish it.”**

“Okay,” he agrees apprehensively. “What sort of evil?”

“ **The spell to create the Millennium Items has been discovered. You must destroy it and those who would use it before the Dark God, Zorc Necrophades, is resurrected.”**

“What?” he gasps. “But I...I thought Atem destroyed him?”

“ **So long as there is darkness in the hearts of men Zorc Necrophades will never truly be destroyed!”** cries Slifer. **“So long as greed and hate and lust exist there will always be the potential for him to be reborn!”**

Ryou fights back nausea at the thought of that monster returned to life. “If I was able to gather all the former wielders of the Millennium Items what would we be expected to do? We don't have magic any more; how are we supposed to stop them? Do we need to duel them? Would defeating them in a duel be enough to stop them? To stop their spell? How do you destroy a spell? And how are we supposed to find these people, or will they find us?”

“ **So many questions,”** growls Obelisk.

“ **Gather together and your enemies will come to you,”** says Ra. **“They will sense your power and aim to strike before you unlock your true potential.”**

“True potential?”

“ **Your Ka. The creature which lives within your soul and feeds on your emotions. You feel much, Bakura Ryou, and your Ka is strong. You must learn to summon it to defeat this new enemy. You must all learn – for those whose lives have been touched by the power of the Millennium Items have a greater awareness of the magic of your world. It will be easier for you than any other mortal to summon your Ka into battle.”**

Underneath the fear and the dread there is – anticipation. The gods have come to _him_ , have spoken to _him_. Perhaps this time he will actually be able to participate in the battle instead of being relegated to the sidelines. He will not be a hostage or a mindless tool or a helpless spectator – he will be right there at Yugi's side fighting to save mankind.

“How...how are we supposed to summon our Ka?

“ **We will send you one with knowledge. One who was able to summon their Ka without the aid of the Millennium Items. One who knows much about the the Dark God and how to prevent his rebirth. One who many years ago witnessed Zorc Necrophades' return to your world. You will use them to defeat your enemies.”**

Unease grows in Ryou as he asks, “Who will you send?”

“ **His name is Thief King Bakura of Kul Elna.”**

Even in his dreams that name causes his heart to race. “No! Not him; I won't be possessed again!”

“ **Fear not Bakura Ryou,”** murmurs Slifer. **“You are of his blood, and thus we will take your blood to gift him with flesh of his own. This magic will bind you in spirit alone.”**

“But isn't he the one who wanted to resurrect Zorc?” Ryou asks desperately. “Why would you bring him back? He'll only turn on us and help whoever is trying to revive Zorc so he can steal the power for himself!”

“ **You confuse Bakura of Kul Elna with the Spirit of the Millennium Ring. The Spirit was a part of Zorc which had been corrupted by the presence of the Thief King's soul inside the Ring. Before the Final Battle the Spirit sealed Bakura's soul deep inside the Ring so that it could not be further corrupted by a mortal's compassion. When Zorc was defeated the Thief King was sent to Purgatory to await his sentence.”**

“That still doesn't explain why you trust him.”

“ **We do not trust,”** Obelisk grins. **“We ensure obedience.”**

“ **He is human,”** explains Ra. **“He has the potential to learn from his mistakes; the potential for redemption. He will teach you and the others to summon your Ka. With them you will be able to find and stop those who seek to destroy your world.”**

The gods retreat and Ryou's pleas for them to wait fall on deaf ears.

Ryou wakes to find himself outside, his arm still bleeding from where he apparently cut himself with the kitchen knife at his feet. Next to the knife is a box of matches, nail scissors, and a stone he uses to scrape the dead skin from his feet. Next to these items are the remains of a fire. He recognises the letters he writes to Amane among the debris. He also recognises the face of the man apparently born from Ryou's blood, skin, hair, nails, and memories. The face of a man from one of the cards _HE_ used in the Shadow RPG with the Other Yugi.

Thief King Bakura.

  
  


**Fear**

“Run you idiot!” Bakura screams as the enemy Ka converge on them.

The boy does not respond, too mesmerised by the chaos of battle. A battle he is not supposed to be a part of, a battle Bakura is quickly losing control of. Cursing, Bakura forces himself to turn away from the little idiot. He is the one who chose to follow Bakura when he wanted to be alone; he can find his own way out of this mess.

A Ka with the body of a large cat and the wings of a falcon lunges at Diabound. Bakura's Ka glides out of its way, the snake head snapping at the creature's wing as it passes – and is almost decapitated by another Ka wielding an axe. Diabound dodges at the last second, right into the path of a third Ka's fireball.

Bakura hisses at the pain caused by the burn, his hand moving reflexively to cradle his side. He glares at Diabound as the Ka lashes out with its fists, attempting to herd the Ka in one direction so that it will not be surrounded.

Once a mighty beast which towered over Bakura, Diabound is now barely twice his height. Bakura's time in Purgatory has dulled his hatred, his thirst for justice, his need for revenge – all the things which in Egypt had fuelled his desire to live and been the basis for Diabound's power. The Ka is still strong in comparison to most but there is no way it could take on one High Priest wielding a Millennium Item, let alone six. Had the gods known this would happen when they resurrected him? Are they laughing at him right now – does his weakness amuse them; or are they equally shocked by this turn of events and are regretting their choice of champion?

Bakura snorts derisively at that thought. He is not their champion. The Pharaoh's former vessel is their champion; Bakura is just there to instruct him on how to summon his personal Ka. The gods do not care if he dies so long as he does so _after_ he has passed on his knowledge. As one of the few people to ever learn how to summon their Ka without years of training in the Egyptian religion he possesses a valuable skill – the gods probably thought he would be the most successful in bringing out the personal Ka of a group of novices. So far he is doing an excellent job of proving them wrong. The Pharaoh's former vessel, his friends, and the other former Millennium Item holders have the _Heka_ necessary to see Ka and the former Item holders _should_ be able to summon their Ka – yet they are too incompetent to do so. It is one of the reasons Bakura had stormed out of the Game Shop and into this little ambush.

“Diabound! Spiral Wave!”

The Ka activates its special ability and sends its opponents flying. The human Ka wielders curse and cry out in pain, but it does not take them long to recover. In less than a minute they are back on their feet and launching another barrage of attacks at Diabound. All except for one. One of the Ka peels away from the others, its golden gaze trained on the boy who _is still here._

Bakura does not know where the sudden sense of _dread_ and _panic_ that washes over him comes from, but he knows he needs to act quickly to save the boy's life. The boy who is the last of his blood, whose spirit was strong enough to bear the weight of the Millennium Ring for years without becoming corrupted or driven to madness. The first human in millennia who stirred his compassion and caused him to defy Zorc back in Battle City. Who hides his great loss and incredible _Heka_ behind a smile. Who is brave enough to challenge Zorc but compassionate enough to give him another chance.

“ _Ryou!”_

Diabound's power surges. His tail catches one Ka unaware, the snake's fangs sinking into the creature's neck – deeper and deeper until with a sharp flick the creature's neck and that of the human who summoned it snap. Diabound does not wait for its companion to recover. It grabs the enemy Ka and lifts it over its head. Holding opposite ends, Diabound pulls until the Ka is torn in two. Bakura ignores the dying scream of its master as he orders Diabound to attack the final Ka headed for Ryou.

Only to find that he is too late.

  
  


**Disgust**

Eventually the black spots caused by the intensity of the blast fade from Ryou's vision. With watering eyes he stares at the scene of devastation – a scene which has been created by his Ka. The enemy (a boy not much older than himself whose name Ryou never learnt) is dead, the remains of his Ka disappeared into the ether. The White Wizard turns towards its master with cold, dead eyes that betray the fact that it is not human. The gods were not wrong when they said that Ryou had a powerful Ka sleeping inside him.

Suddenly, Ryou can no longer contain the horror of what he has done. He falls to his hands and knees, vomiting his last meal onto the unyielding concrete. He has taken a life. Not his body (he cannot blame this on the Voice in his head) but he, Ryou Bakura, has done this. The boy had ordered his Ka to attack and Ryou, not for the first time, had stared death in the face. But unlike all those other times his Ka had responded to his fear and desire to survive. It had burst forth in a blaze of brilliant white light and countered the boy's strike. The boy had died instead of Ryou and now he has blood on his hands; just like the Voice and just like the Thief King.

A gentle hand placed atop his head alerts Ryou to the fact that he is no longer alone. He turns slowly, his gaze sweeping up denim-clad legs to settle at a blood-red hoodie. The Thief King.

“I had the same reaction the first time I killed a man,” the thief says in a tone of voice far softer and more sincere than Ryou thought him capable of. “The first one is always the hardest. It isn't until you stop seeing them as human that murder becomes easy.”

“I'm not you,” Ryou hisses, the spark of anger in his breast a welcome distraction against the acidic sting of self-disgust in his belly.

“No, you're not.”

For a moment Ryou is thrown by the indecipherable emotion in the thief's voice. Then the tears begin to fall and a single desperate sob escapes his throat. The hand on his head clenches reflexively before relaxing and again becoming the comforting gesture it was intended to be.

Angrily, Ryou rubs at his eyes and mouth with the edge of his sleeve – a pitiful attempt to hide his weakness. He sits back onto the soles of his shoes and forces himself to meet the Thief King's gaze. There too is that incomprehensible mix of emotions: concern, empathy, fear, anger, helplessness. Ryou wishes he could reach into the thief's mind and steal its secrets – steal the key which would let him decrypt this strange yet fascinating man. He hates to be touched, sneers at the idea of teamwork, and has threatened to leave them all behind if they are unable to keep up with him. Yet here he is offering comfort, of a sorts. Does that mean that all his bluster and self-confidence were just an act? Is this the act, now that he has seen the strength of Ryou's Ka and fears that it may be more powerful than his Diabound? Or is there a third option that Ryou cannot see?

“Bakura! Are you alright?!”

The Thief King jumps to his feet as if he has been burned and backs away from Ryou's still kneeling form as the others rush to surround him. He forces a smile that he knows does not come close to reaching his eyes as he reassures them that he is fine. They help him to his feet and survey the damage done during his battle.

“What happened?” Yugi asks, but Ryou can tell by the way the other teenager looks at him and at his silent Ka that he has already correctly deduced what has happened. Ryou turns to the Thief King but the man's expression is once again one of boredom and superiority. Knowing he will receive no help from that quarter, with a heavy heart Ryou returns his attention to Yugi and tells his tale.

  
  


**Disgust**

“Grumpy McAsshole.”

The female Tomb Keeper does not so much glare as _pierce the idiot's soul with her gaze._ “I am not risking my position at the Egyptian embassy by forging a new identity for _Grumpy McAsshole_.”

“What about Bitter Al Asshole?”

Bakura growls as Idiot 1 and Idiot 2 laugh at their stupid joke. “My _name_ is Bakura, King of Thieves.”

“Is that a first or last name?”

Bakura intends to turn his ire on the Tomb Keeper, but she is all business and no ridicule. “First name,” he grunts reluctantly.

She waits expectantly for a moment before saying, “You will need a family name if you wish to legally exist in the modern world.”

“Why does it matter if I exist or not?”

“If we must leave the country to complete this mission given to us by the gods you will need identification. It will also be essential if you remain here once the mission is complete.”

Bakura has tried not to think about what happens after. He does not want to pin his hopes onto a dream lest the gods crush it in another one of their games.

“I don't remember my family name.”

“Then perhaps for your legal documents we should make Bakura your family name. What would you like your first name to be?”

“Something which can be shortened to T.K.” The youngest Tomb Keeper smirks. “TK Bakura, as in Thief King Bakura.”

“No.”

“Then choose something else.”

“No,” he snarls. “My name is Bakura – just Bakura. If you won't call me Thief King call me that.”

“I'm afraid that won't work,” says the Tomb Keeper.

Tired of this conversation he turns to leave – only to have the youngest Tomb Keeper intercept him. “You're clinging to the past. Take it from someone who knows how much your life can get screwed up by doing that – it's not worth it. This is your second chance. Embrace it. Take a new name. Become somebody other than the Thief King who nearly destroyed the world.”

Bakura's fist curls into the front of his shirt as he pulls the boy's face to his. “I have lost everything playing in the games of gods; I refuse to lose my name as well.”

The boy does not flinch. “You're not the only one who was an unwilling participant in the game the gods call Destiny. You're also not the only one who's lost something precious to the game.”

“He's right,” the Pharaoh's former vessel says from across the room. “The Spirit of the Millennium Ring took a lot from Bakura. You don't get to steal his name too.”

Bakura releases the Tomb Keeper to turn his fury on the vessel. “It was my name first!”

“Not in this group. We were calling him Bakura long before we met you,” the vessel says defiantly as he indicates the boy sitting beside him. “It should be his decision whether you deserve his name. After everything that's happened you owe him that much.”

“I don't owe him anything!”

“He's right.”

Bakura stares at Ryou. The boy continues to stare into his tea as he says,

“He's not the Voice. He's not the one who manipulated and used me. He doesn't owe me a debt.” He looks up, steel in his eyes as he finishes, “But Bakura is my name and I want it. You can put Bakura Bakura on the passport if you want, but that's not what anyone will call you. _I'm_ Bakura. You need to be someone else.” He sips his tea as he adds, “I'd choose something sensible like TK before Grumpy McAsshole sticks.”

Impotent fury rolls through him before he spits out a curt, “Fine. Call me TK Bakura on your damn form.” He pushes the Tomb Keeper out of his way as he storms out of the Game Shop. He is glad none of them try to follow him.

  
  


**Sadness**

Ryou pauses, listening carefully for any sign that he is not alone. He hears nothing besides the natural background noise which is the heartbeat of his home. With a world-weary sigh he toes off his shoes and moves to the kitchen, depositing his bags of shopping on the pristine counter. Mechanically, Ryou begins to put away the groceries.

_There is nothing more depressing than returning home to an empty apartment._

It's a stupid thought, really. Ryou never use to have trouble living alone. After his mother and sister died and his father buried himself in his work he'd had to adapt quickly to being on his own. And when the spirit inside the Millennium Ring decided to 'pay rent' by stealing the souls of his friends... Well, let's just say that solitude became one of Ryou's closest allies. He'd enjoyed having the apartment to himself; he'd relished the fact that he had a space where he could go and escape the world for a few hours before he was forced to rejoin humanity in its mad sprint towards the horizon. He knew a few other introverts who didn't have the luxury of having their own space to recharge – they made it sound like a privilege that he lived alone. Ryou had agreed with them whole-heartedly up until a few weeks ago when his uninvited house guest had packed a bag and walked out the door for good. From that moment on the empty apartment had felt more like a curse than a blessing.

Ryou understands why TK had to leave. Once they'd burnt the Millennium Tome and put a stop to all attempts to resurrect Zorc Necrophades TK had officially upheld his end of the bargain with the gods. He'd expected that he would be dragged into the Afterlife immediately to receive payment, but instead the gods had informed him that he was to live out the rest of the life given to him by Ryou's ritual before he received his eternal reward. TK had been...oddly bereft at the news. Ryou had assumed he was sad that he would have to wait to see his family again, but the problem had been far more philosophical in nature. His life's purpose had been to exact vengeance on those who had slaughtered his village, and then to do what he must to ensure that the souls of the villagers found peace. Now there was nobody left to take vengeance on (well, there was Yugi, but even TK had difficulty mustering the necessary ruthlessness required to hurt Yugi) and the villagers were safe in Paradise. TK had been gifted a life without purpose and it left him feeling empty. He needed to set out into the world and find a cause worth dedicating his life to. Ryou understands that. What he doesn't understand is why his leaving has left him feeling so hollow.

  
  


**Sadness**

In many ways the modern world is not much different than the one he once knew. For all their technology and medicine and democracy there are still wars, still poverty, still loopholes the rich and powerful can exploit. It fascinates Bakura how far humanity has come without changing. From watching their media he knows that modern man believes himself to have evolved, to have turned his species into one worth saving. Bakura does not believe it for a second – the only difference between the past and present is that the present is comfortable enough that most people don't need to make hard choices and can fool themselves into thinking they are good people. If famine and drought came to this place then it would not take long for all pretence at civility to disappear and people would kill each other for scraps. Even the softest of hearts will throw aside their morals in their desperate desire to survive.

Such thoughts make him think of Ryou. He misses him and his attempts to convince Bakura that humanity is better than its worst mistakes. He misses his optimism, his fire, his smile. He misses the camaraderie they shared during their quest to prevent Zorc Necrophades' resurrection. For once interacting with another human had not caused Bakura to wish them all dead. Many of his memories of Egypt have faded over time but there are some which still haunt him. The beating he received because he was begging in another urchin's spot. Running for his life from the mob who believed his white hair made him a demon. Vomiting in disgust at the things he had done to a man in a back alley in exchange for one good meal. Learning the hard way that the one thing a thief must never do is get caught.

Perhaps if there had been more people like Ryou in Egypt things would have turned out differently. Perhaps if someone had taken in that scared, traumatised little boy and loved him he would have found a better way to avenge the fallen than by making contracts with dark gods. Perhaps he would not have believed that the only way to redeem humanity was to wipe out the entire species. Perhaps being the Angel of Death and the bringer of the Age of Darkness would not have sounded so appealing if there had been someone there to show him the light. Perhaps he would have found hope...

Bakura remembers a woman, a grieving mother driven to madness by the loss of her child. He remembers how she took him into her home – bathed him, fed him, clothed him, taught him his letters – for a season. For a season they were both happy. But then the itch started. The itch of a guilty conscious – why should he be happy when everyone else was dead? Why should he be thriving when the remains of his kith and kin remained unburied in that gods forsaken place? He was spared for a reason and it was not to play the part of a mad woman's dead son. So he waited until she had gone to sleep (after she had kissed his forehead and called him by her real son's name) then robbed her and left without saying goodbye.

Perhaps nothing would have been different. Perhaps he was born to be a failed avenger, to be no more than a pawn in the great games of gods. Perhaps he was destined from the beginning to be a pariah; to be a thief twisted by hatred and doomed to burn in the darkness of his own heart. Perhaps his only course of action is to continue to destroy indiscriminately until the gods bestow their chosen hero with the power to damn him once and for all...

Ryou doesn't believe him to be a monster. In the beginning he did but now... He was sad when Bakura said he was leaving.

“ _I think I actually might miss you.”_

“ _Of course you will.”_

Bakura had been flippant at the time, but only because he hadn't understood (or wanted to understand) the warmth inside him at Ryou's words. It has been a long time since he knew anyone well enough to be missed. Or to miss them in return.

Standing atop the tallest building in the city, staring out at the bright lights below which compete jealously with the stars above, Bakura sighs. He'd been convinced that he needed to leave Ryou and Domino City behind. He'd been sure that his new purpose in life was out there in the unknown, in the bright and vibrant modern world which was now his plaything. Over the last few weeks his conviction has faded and left him to wonder: was he as wrong about this as he was about everything else? Should he have stayed and waited for the reason for his second chance to reveal itself? Or, perhaps more worryingly, did he leave because he already knew his new purpose but was too stubborn to admit it?

As much as Bakura likes to claim that his purpose in life was _justice_ he knows that is only half the story. The other half is that everything he did up until he succumbed to the Darkness he did for his _family_. And maybe, just maybe, that is the reason he has been given this second shot at life.

Maybe it's time to return to Ryou.

  
  


**Happiness**

“Looks like he likes you,” Jonouchi grins, indicating the stray cat winding itself between Ryou's legs. “You going to adopt him too?”

“If he's anything like the other stray in my life there won't be any conscious decision to adopt; he'll just show up in my apartment and eat my food and sleep in my bed and bleed on my floor whenever the mood strikes,” Ryou replies, more fond than annoyed.

“Bleed on your floor?”

“He's taken to illegal underground cage-fighting to earn money. Occasionally his opponents actually manage to hurt him.”

“And you're cool about this?”

Ryou shrugs. “There are worse things he could be doing.”

“I suppose.”

They stand in silence for a moment as the stray continues to demand attention. “You know Bakura, if he really was bothering you, we could do something about it. We could call the Ishtars, make it four Ka and three fighters against one asshole. He's thick-headed but I'm sure your stray would realise he needs to leave you alone if we pressed the point.”

Ryou forces a smile, pretending obliviousness. “Seems like an awful lot of effort for one stray cat.”

“You know I'm not talking about the cat.”

With a sigh Ryou looks away. “Some of the things he does do aggravate me, and there are days I wish the apartment was just mine again. But...” He bites his lip, glances at Jonouchi, then looks away again. “You probably think I'm mad; the same way you all thought I was mad for putting the Millennium Ring on even though I knew what _HE_ was capable of. And you're all probably right – I am a little bit mad. That's what happens when you're alone for so long. When you feel isolated and alone you grasp tightly to any bit of kindness offered. _HE_ helped me in Duellist Kingdom and in Battle City and when Otogi kidnapped Yugi _HE_ helped him get the Puzzle back. I thought there was a good person in there and I wanted to save _HIM_ and be _HIS_ friend. I was wrong about the Voice but I'm not wrong about TK. You're right, he is an asshole – but he's also family. And when we're alone... There's a side to him that he's still getting comfortable showing. He makes puns and pop culture references and helps me plan my Monster World campaigns and watches horror movies with me. He pretends he doesn't listen to me but he does. Plus it's nice to just come home and – and to have someone there waiting for you. Someone who calls you family and never means to hurt you. He's just a big kid who sometimes speaks or acts without thinking and I... The craziest part of it all Jonouchi is that I'm happy. For all the grief that he gives me he makes me happy. I don't know what I'd do if he was to leave.”

Ryou doesn't look at his friend as he awaits a response to this outpouring of truth.

“You're right Bakura – you are crazy.”

Ryou winces, the rejection stinging more than he thought it would. He blinks when Jonouchi puts his hands on Ryou's shoulders and meets his surprised stare with a grin.

“In fact, you are absolutely fucking mental – a real basket case – but that doesn't mean I don't get it. Back when I first met Yugi I was a real asshole too. I tormented him and threw a piece of his Puzzle into the school swimming pool. If Yugi had any sense he would have hated me but he didn't. He took a beating for me, he forgave me, he let me be his friend because he saw something good and worthy of friendship in me. He was the first person to ever do that (except for Honda but he doesn't count) for me. And if you think TK has something worthy of friendship in him then you go for it. Just be careful and know that we're still friends; if it all goes tits up you can always ask for help and we'll kick his ass together.”

“Jonouchi...”

“Oh shit you're crying,” Jonouchi says as he jumps back, his hands held up as if he has been stung. “I'm sorry, I'm such an idiot, sorry-”

“Don't be. I'm crying with happiness,” Ryou says, a wide smile lighting up his face. “You're a good friend Jonouchi.”

“No problem Bakura,” Jonouchi replies with his own grin. “Now let's get going before they run out of free doughnuts.”

Still smiling, Ryou brushes away his tears and joins his friend in dodging affectionate felines in the pursuit of what are rumoured to be the best doughnuts in Domino.

  
  


**Happiness**

The lock on the window is as easy to pick as ever. Bakura slides into the apartment (remembering just in time to take off his shoes before his feet touch the pristine carpet) and looks around. Little has changed since his last visit over a fortnight ago. Ryou had been sick then and Bakura had found him curled up on the sofa under a blanket watching a movie. A stupid movie with singing animals that Bakura had only watched with him because the boy had looked at him with fever-bright eyes that stirred some irrational protective instinct within him. Well, maybe not so irrational – ten minutes into the film Ryou had rushed into the bathroom and made sounds akin to that of a dying animal. Bakura had felt duty bound to stay with him for the rest of the day in case he really did die whilst vomiting; he'd seen it happen before and had no intention of letting such a fate befall his last living relative.

Today Ryou is absent from the apartment. All traces of what he had called 'A 48 hour stomach bug' are gone and order has been restored to the home. Bakura takes this in with a glance before depositing his shoes by the front door and heading for the kitchen. He's been distracted of late; too busy exploring the modern world to check in on his family. Today he'll rectify that. He'll eat lunch and then have a subtle exploration of the place – he'll make sure there are no signs Ryou is suffering and then he will move on. The kid doesn't need or want him in his life and he won't force himself on him. He knows too much about how bad memories can haunt you to do that to Ryou.

In the kitchen Bakura heads straight for the fridge. He notices a whiteboard with a message written in Ryou's neat handwriting. Instructions on how to heat something in the fridge. Bakura looks inside and finds a bowl of something delicious-looking waiting for him. He removes it and places it in the microwave as instructed. As the machine works its magic he continues to explore. He heads into the game room and finds another note, this one written on paper.

_I'm hosting a game of Monster World tonight if you would like to join us?_

_-Ryou_

The word 'tonight' has been crossed out multiple times. Originally it was 'next Friday', then 'Friday', then 'tomorrow'. Ryou has been expecting him.

Underneath the note is a wooden figurine. He picks it up and examines it. The red coat, white hair and scar are unmistakable. There is also a statistics sheet for the figure, a key, and another note. All the note says is:

_So you don't have to keep picking my locks._

Bakura smiles fondly at the note. The microwave beeps to inform him his meal is ready. He pockets the key and brings the statistics sheet with him to the kitchen. He needs to prepare for the big game.


End file.
